“It’s not a secret,” Diesel said. “Everyone knows Wulf is looking for the Luxuria Stone.”
“And we will succeed,” Hatchet said. “We have the sonnets, and we will shortly secure the key.”
“Why didn’t you get the key when you took the sonnets?” Diesel asked.
Hatchet’s face flushed red. “It was an oversight.” He turned on his heel and marched to the elevator.
“He’s going to cut a hole in Reedy’s front door with the chain saw,” I said to Diesel.
“Not likely,” Diesel said. “It’s a metal fire door. If Hatchet wants to get in, he’s going to have to go through the wall.”
CHAPTER THREE
It was pouring rain by the time we got back to my house. We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and padded sock-footed into the kitchen. Diesel took a couple cookies from the cookie jar.
“You could have defended my honor back there when Hatchet called me your slut,” I said to Diesel.
“I was enjoying the moment. I’ve always wanted a slut of my own.”
Carl wandered into the kitchen. He’d been sleeping on the couch in the living room, and he had bed-head monkey fur all over. He scratched his stomach and eyeballed Diesel’s cookie. “Eee?”
I gave Carl a cookie and turned my attention to the anthology and the folders Diesel had placed on the counter. The first folder was labeled General History of the SALIGIA. The second folder contained a thesis called The Myth of the Luxuria Stone by someone named Carl Stork. Plus a shorter professional paper, also by Stork. Both works by Stork were written in 1943. The third folder held a collection of stapled pages, scraps of paper, and articles cut from journals and newspapers.
“Most of the stuff in this folder is relatively recent,” I said to Diesel. “Some handwritten notes. A newspaper piece about a museum exhibit that opened last week. An article reprint about Salem witches.” I pulled the witch article out and started reading. “Holy cow. This article is about Miriam Lovey being suspected of witchcraft. It says she disappeared before she could be brought to trial. She was fifteen years old at the time.”